


The Fall

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 12:17:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4059694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels Azriel and Zerakiel are patrolling heaven together and without warning, fall to earth, into Lake Superior. They’re washed up on the shore, where a local pastor, who used to be a hunter finds and takes pity on them. They recover there for a few days, before the Winchesters turn up to ask said pastor for advice. The angels ask to hitch a ride to a gateway to heaven.<br/>They find out the gateway has been deadlocked, and so teleport into the back of the impala and tag along with the Winchesters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fall

It all happened so quickly; I was out on patrol with my squadron partner Zerakiel. Next thing I knew, I was falling. Fast. Tumbling head over heels, feeling my wings burning off in a hail of fire. I couldn't see anything except smoke, and the occasional flash of flame from other nearby angels. And the earth. It consumed my vision as it rushed up towards me. Then darkness.

The first thing I knew when I came to was searing, throbbing, stabbing pain all over my body, then the sharp embrace of sub-zero water up to my thighs. When I opened my eyes, I could see nothing.

 _That’s the sky Azriel._ I thought to myself after a moment of confusion. _No stars out tonight._

My next thought was of my surroundings; where _was_ I?

 _Earth, silly._ _But where?_

It was a dark, starless night, I took in my surroundings as I sat up; I was resting on a sandy beach with a vast expanse of water before me, and a dense fir forest behind.

_North America._

Suddenly, I heard a low moan from about fifty yards away, to my right. Almost as if in response, a dark figure immediately emerged from the trees behind me, heading for the dark mass. He looked to be checking it over, seemingly satisfied with his goods, he, with some difficulty, picked it up. An arm fell out of the bundle and I recognised it straight away – Zerakiel. She had her squadron emblem on a bracelet around her left wrist.

My mind raced as I tried to figure out what to do; the angels had fallen – that much was evident, but now, weakened, we were prey to the humans. I decided to try and hide and so, with my remaining strength, began to crawl towards the trees, in the opposite direction to where the figure had appeared.

These efforts were futile, I realised, as the dark figure appeared once more and bore down upon me. He (I could see it was a human male) was wearing all black. I felt a sharp pain in my upper arm and almost immediately drowsiness set in.

 _At least all the pain is gone._ But who was this person? _Your death, probably._ Well it most certainly wasn’t a reaper. I felt so tired but didn’t know if I wanted to die, not yet; it felt like there was so much to do, but at the same time – _so tired_ – I just wanted to give up. A wave of grief, for my brothers and sisters who’d fallen, for the state of heaven, for mankind overwhelmed me, and carried me into the darkness.

 

I remember being semi-conscious for a while before I opened my eyes, there wasn’t much movement, just a slow, shuffling gait that came and went. No clue as to who had taken us.

 

‘You ladies might want to buddy up with some feathered friends, or hunters’

I heard the voice as the veil of darkness began to lift, my lids didn’t seem so heavy, my limbs not so leaden. All I could see was silhouettes; that of a round-shouldered man without much hair and a crucifix on the wall behind him.

‘You are a man of God’ I stated, sitting up.

‘And you are an angel of God’

The dark clothing made sense now; it was his habit.

‘Where are we?’

‘St Helens Catholic Church, Michigan; my parish’

A sense of urgency hit me; if I wasn’t dead, I needed to help my brothers and sisters.

‘The angels have fallen.’

‘No shit, Sherlock’

‘I do not understand that reference. We need to find our comrades and the gate to heaven, will you help us?’

‘Well whad’ya think I’m doing? You think I like to put bandages on people for fun?’

I hear a low moan somewhere close by and sat up

‘Zerakiel! Are you okay?’

‘Your friend is a lil’ bit more beat up than you, she’ll need longer to recover’

_Recover?_

The pastor must have sensed my confusion, as he immediately launched into an explanation about how we were weak from the fall and had lost most of our ‘mojo’.

‘I don’t think you understand: we HAVE to get back to heaven’ croaked Zerakiel

‘I don’t think YOU understand’ admonished the pastor; ‘You are too weak to do so right now, I have hunter friends arriving in a week or so that you can hitch a ride with to the gates of heaven, but until then you need to REST or you will burn out’

So we reluctantly accepted the hospitality of Father Austin (that was his name), he was harsh with truths, but kind and caring.

One evening, about 10 days later he sat us down with a cup of what he called ‘hot cocoa’, it was beyond my wildest imaginations, I never realised being human could be so… satisfying! That evening, by the fire in the cosy rectory living room, he told us the story of his life.

‘Both my mom and dad were hunters, they loved me, but didn’t see that I was a pacifist, and so tried time and again to get me on hunts. I refused; I was never a good fighter, I saw too much beauty in the creatures I was told to kill. I wanted to know their story, how had they been turned? What was it like, being able to compel people to do horrible things? Could they use those powers for good? It resulted in a few close shaves; this scar’ he pointed to his neck, where a long, silvery, but barely perceptible scar lay ‘was from a djinn; it cut me with its blade, thought I was gonna bleed out. This one is from a bender’ he lifted up his trouser leg, showing a long red scar going from his knee to his ankle ‘It scratched me as my dad dragged it off me. The last thing I ever hunted was a vampire. I also happened to be the last thing it ever hunted; after it had bitten me, my dad cut its head off and used the blood to cure me. That had been the last straw for my parents, my dad forbade me to ever hunt again, he hated that I couldn’t go into the family business, but loved me too much to sacrifice me for his dream.’ Austin suddenly looked resigned and weary. ‘So here I am. I’ve got the knowledge of a hunter, but lack the skills and, most importantly, the will.’

We sat in silence for a while, I watched him watching the crackling fire. He seemed content to lead such a simple life, how nice that must be.

‘Right, I think you girls are gonna be all fine and dandy soon, which is good, because my hunter friends are comin’ tomorrow afternoon, they agreed to drive you to the gates’

‘Portal.’ Corrected Zerakiel, bluntly

‘Portal, gates, whatever, make sure you’re ready. I’m going to bed, I need more sleep than I used to.’

He got to the door before Z spoke

‘Who are your hunter friends?’

‘The Winchesters, I expect you’ve heard of them’ he answered, then disappeared into the darkness beyond the doorway.

We most certainly had.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!  
> So this is my first (published online) work, I'm kinda new to writing fanfic, so go easy on me :')


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